


Explicit

by mayalinified



Series: All Night [6]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Bucky, Bottom Steve, Confessions, Dumb boys being dumb, M/M, Prostitute Bucky, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayalinified/pseuds/mayalinified
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And, yes, maybe he’s been a little off his game so to speak. He’s been forgetful, quieter than he usually is. The quips shared between him, Nat, and Sam only bubble up a little chuckle rather than a typical laugh. He knows what the cause is, but he’s not sure how he’s going to bring it up to Sam and Nat without sounding like he’s a Dateline special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explicit

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it's over. A huge thanks to all the readers and friends I made along the way. I seriously couldn't have done it with you all. Your encouragement, feedback, and kind words kept me going and motivated to finish this story. Thanks to my girlfriend and dear friends with whom I tortured with various plot ideas, questions, and brainstorming sessions. You all will be the only ones to know how this story almost ended up, and just how neurotic I can be when it comes to my writing. And again, just thank you - a million times over - to everyone. I'm so grateful and I'm amazed that I FINALLY finished a story.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and messages on my tumblr are ALWAYS welcome (as always). Enjoy!
> 
> I started a tag (All Night Series) for this. Feel free to check it out and as always you can find me at infinitygauntlets.tumblr.com!
> 
> Now complete with a playlist!!!
> 
> http://infinitygauntlets.tumblr.com/post/87759182724/all-night-series-a-playlist-x-rated-e

Steve is almost certain he’ll be sent to voicemail when he finally picks up the phone and calls Bucky three days after the Gala. It’s a Wednesday, and it’s hot, and it’s definitely during the day.

_"Try not to call me during the day unless it's an emergency. I charge extra from emergencies."_

He’s not entirely sure if that rule still applied after the long list of _shit_ the two of them had been through. Steve owes him a call, and he figures calling him at night gives off the impression that he wants to have sex. And well – he does want that, but he doesn’t want Bucky to think he intends to be a client.

So he calls him around 12:30 PM while he sees Sam off up his apartment stairs after a graveyard at the ladder. Natasha had spent the entire shift giving him the third degree of where he went after the Gala, why he was so off the last couple weeks. _You’re lying to me Steve, you’re a terrible liar._

And, yes, maybe he’s been a little off his game so to speak. He’s been forgetful, quieter than he usually is. The quips shared between him, Nat, and Sam only bubble up a little chuckle rather than a typical laugh. He knows what the cause is, but he’s not sure how he’s going to bring it up to Sam and Nat without sounding like he’s a Dateline special.

_Hey guys, I think I have feelings for this guy. Now, now. I know what you’re thinking. How does a 26 year old firefighter end up with a barely legal 18 year old college student. It’s a funny story. See, it starts at this bar…_

No.

No way that conversation was going to be had any time in the near future.

He thinks he’s going to get voicemail, and he almost does. By the fifth ring he’s ready to hang up – because somehow leaving a voicemail sees like the cowards way out – but Bucky answers with a sigh.

“Hey,” he says. “Steve.”

It’s abundantly clear that he’s not exactly thrilled to see him calling. He tries not to let it get him down, so Steve says hi back around a weak smile Bucky is sure to hear on the other line.

“I wanted to see you. Sorry for…calling you during the day.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s lecture and it’s British Literature. You’re doing me a favor really.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. My major is poli-sci. If you were…curious, I guess.”

“Yeah uh…that’s great. Columbia is great for that.”

There’s a painful silence and Bucky fills it with another sigh, another sign he’s not overjoyed with Steve’s request, “So you want to meet?”

He nods, although Bucky can’t see it. Some kids playing in the street with a water hose and narrowly avoids getting sprayed down, phone in hand. “I can go out there. To your place I mean.”

Bucky laughs, “Yeah. No. I live in a dorm with two roommates. I’ll uh…” It sounds like, on the other side of the phone, Bucky is distracted by something. Steve hears the receiver muffle up, as if Bucky is putting his hand over it, and he can’t hear what’s being said it exactly, but he knows it’s Bucky snapping at somebody.

“It might take me a bit to get all the way from Morningside to Brooklyn. I remember where your place is though. Just give me some time to get out there, ok?”

Steve sucks on his bottom lip until he can bite on it. He side steps a dropped popsicle, melting on the sidewalk, and hops up onto his brownstone’s stairs. “Ok. I’ll see you soon then. Bye.”

He hangs up and immediately goes for the shower. Over the years he’d developed a routine after his shifts; shower, sweatpants, nap. This routine was to be executed without exception, no matter the time of day – after all his definition of an average sleep schedule was not exactly standard.

But instead he trades out sweatpants with well-worn blue jeans and a white v-neck. The nap is replaced by a cup of Starbucks Sumatra percolated outside of the average set time of “AM Scheduled Brew”. He’s lounging on his couch watching Law & Order by the time Bucky shows up – the episode is a repeat and the doorbell has him springing up off the couch so fast he nearly knocks his empty mug onto the floor.

Bucky looks so painfully his age that Steve almost doesn’t recognize him. He’s in jeans, cuffed at the ankles, canvas sneakers, and a loose fitting, dark blue t-shirt. His hair is more unkempt than normal, and strands are slightly damp, sticking to his forehead with the heat. It would have been hell if he’d had a backpack on, but Steve figures he must have dropped it off before taking the subway out here.

“Hi,” Steve says, forcing himself to look up again. Really, Bucky looks handsome as ever. His eyes are lit up with the sunshine and his cheeks are just _kissed_ red enough to make it look like he’s blushing. He even smiles a little when he’s stepping into Steve’s place again. But something weighs that smile down.

“Hey,” Bucky replies. He’s looking around the apartment, so Steve lets him. “Wanna sit?” He offers after a moment and leads him – with a decent amount of distance between the two of them – to the couch.

He flicks off Law & Order and turns to Bucky, who stares at him expectantly. “Why am I here?”

Steve raises his eyebrows, then brings them back down, pushed together. “Well I told you we were going to talk. So we’re going to talk.”

“Oh?” Bucky rears his head back slightly, looking surprised. “Are we?”

“Jesus, Buck. Don’t start this again. I really…I wanted to talk to you. Honestly.”

“So talk.”

This is already going swimmingly.

Steve sighs, he rubs his hands together in his lap and stares down at them, “I wanted to apologize first. For the other night. I shouldn’t have interfered while you were with a client. I hope I didn’t mess anything up. The last thing I’d want is for you to get hurt a-“

“For me to get hurt?” Bucky ask, looking confused and more than just slightly defensive. “I wasn’t in any kind of danger. It’s not like Chris was going to hurt me.”

The name Chris makes Steve flinch. Now he’s the one getting defensive.

“Well I don’t know! It doesn’t exactly sound like your clients are the most morally sound people out there.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, scrunches up the other. “You’re one of my clients,” he says dryly.

He had a point. Steve backpedals quickly and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t hurt you. I know I wouldn’t. But I can’t speak for the other guys out there that you go home with. They make you do a lot of shit, Buck.”

“Yeah, shit I’m comfortable with. I don’t take clients I don’t feel safe with. I can take care of myself, Steve. So you can drop the knight in shining armor act.”

Steve looks up at the ceiling, exasperated, “You can’t know that. Not until they do something t-“

“Yes! I do! Look, I’ve been doing this for long enough now that I have my regulars. I give them my limits and I don’t take on new clients without talking to them first about what they want and what I’m comfortable doing. I haven’t had a problem.”

“You didn’t do any of that with me,” Steve points out.

“Yeah well you’re different.” He says it so quickly that Steve hardly even has the time to notice that he’d said it. “I do this for money, but it’s not like I don’t enjoy it. And I have the luxury of being picky.”

Steve really shouldn’t say it, but he blurts it out before he has the chance to stop himself. “Well if you have the luxury of being picky, why do it in the first place?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Jesus, it’s not like I’m desperate giving hand jobs out in alleyways to tweakers for drugs, Steve. I’m not desperate. I mean, I didn’t wake up one day and think, _hey!_ Maybe I’ll go out today and suck some older guy’s dick for money for coke! That’ll look _great_ on my resume!” He glares at Steve. “I started turning tricks because I figured out I could make money. But it’s not like I started doing it in a shitty way or because I had no place else to turn.”

Steve shakes his head, still not understanding. “Why would you start in the first place? I get paying for college is hard enough and an Ivy League is tougher but…”

“Yeah? I have a full ride, I get my dorm paid for. But you know what they don’t pay for? Anything else. Literally. I get a stipend for food and you try stretching that out in New York City. You can do it, but it’s not living.”

Steve isn’t sure what to say.

“My parents died when I was thirteen and left me jack shit. I was a ward of the state, got sent from foster home to foster home and worked my _ass_ off to get to Columbia a year early. I got lucky. A lot. But nobody is gonna give a seventeen year old foster kid a job in the city, no matter how fuckin’ smart I am.” He laughs bitterly and shakes his head so the locks flop from side to side. “I’d spent enough time living to get by. Once I got out of the system, I wanted to live a real life.”

Steve swallows hard, “So how did you get into it. Being a…”

“Prefer the term call boy,” He looks back to Steve. His eyes are thawing into a tidal blue. “And I started out not…intending to do it, but things happen y’know. Sometimes your roommates have hot dads named Mark with no wives or other kids. They get lonely, kiss you a little when you go to visit their place. Then you start going over there when your friend isn’t home. You start sucking Mark’s dick and cuddling with him so he’s a little less lonely. You tell him about your life when he starts asking you and next thing you know you’re coming out of that penthouse with a lot more than hickeys.”

Steve is blushing, he must be, because Bucky is cocking his head to make a study of him. “How much did he pay you?” Steve asks slowly.

“Over a thousand by the time he got a new girlfriend. Pocket change to guys like him. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know I ever existed, but Mark never tries to hook up with me anymore.” He shrugs. “So I got a fake ID. I went out and bought some nice clothes with the money Mark gave me. Then I found some lounges I could sit at and reel them in. Rich older guys…well they’re pretty formulaic.”

“And when you met me? Did you think I was rich?”

Bucky blinks; once, twice. He rolls his lips between his teeth and narrows his eyes just slightly. “No.” He says after a moment’s pause. “No I didn’t.”

Steve isn’t sure if he should be offended or not. But he nods anyway, looking at his hands, clasped in his lap. “So why’d you come up to me then? What was I? Easy target? What makes me so different?”

“No. Thought you were hot. I figured I fuck older guys for money, why not a young one?” Bucky rolls his shoulders and slings one knee up on the couch so he can face Steve entirely. His fingers come up; trace the back of his ear to tuck loose hairs into their rightful place. “I dropped my prices for you though. There’s no fucking way you could _really_ afford me.”

Steve looks at him incredulously, “Seriously? How much do you _actually_ cost.”

Bucky laughs, “God you don’t want to know.” He settles back into himself, panting a little from how much force the laugh was in his lungs. His body leans into Steve’s slightly. “I wanted to fuck you, and I wanted cash, so I worked it out.”

Steve really can’t help the shit eating grin he develops at Bucky’s confession. “So you wanted me that bad, huh? You made an exception just for me.”

“Steve,” Bucky says with a slight shake of his head. “I make a lot of exceptions for you and they’re not always good ones.”

They both go silent, but they don’t look away from each other. Steve is the first to speak, “So what does that mean?”

Bucky looks away, looks everywhere but Steve’s face; at his shoes, Steve’s feet, the ceiling, the dark TV.

“Maybe…well maybe I like you?”

He looks back to Steve, finally, only to glance away again at Steve’s smile. There’s something exceptionally charming about the way he looks up at him again from under his lashes, crooked smile cracking over his lips.

“Maybe,” Steve starts, staring at that mouth. His lips are full today, like he’s been chewing on them. Passingly, Steve imagines it as a nervous tick.

“Maybe you like me, too?” Bucky finishes for him. He grins a little wider, enough to break the seal of an all-out smile. “Figured that much. I’m younger than you, but I’m not stupid. You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know that?”

Steve scoffs a little, “Well Jesus why are we even talking if you already knew what I was going to say?”

Bucky just laughs him off. Regardless, it seems, of whether or not Steve was being serious.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it. I like how you are with me. And how you are when we fuck. That especially.”

The tension in the room is so thick that Steve can run his fingers through it. It’s not _all_ sexual, but the vast majority of it is. Their eyes are locked on one another’s and in the span of time it takes for them to put this all out on the line, their bodies have drifted closer to each other’s on the couch. It’s a big couch, but they manage to be only a half a foot from touching lips.

It’s Bucky, who kisses first.

And it isn’t like any other kiss they’ve shared before. There’s not the guise of money or the expectation that he needs to earn anything from Steve. He kisses Steve with trepidation and confidence all at once. Confidence, because he knows he can kiss better than most people Steve has ever kissed. Trepidation, because now instead of knowing Steve wants it because he’s paying for it, he’s hoping that Steve will kiss back.

Steve doesn’t let that linger, and he surges up against him with a sigh, hands wrapping about his waist to pull him in close. He’s small in his arms, in a way Steve likes too much. All lean muscle and ribs, because Bucky isn’t quite done growing yet. And that’s fucked up to think about, and that’s fucked up for Steve to even like at all. But Bucky is kissing him and licking at his lips like he’s a fucking kitten. Going even so far as to groan high in his throat so it comes out like a purr.

He’s helpless do anything but pull Bucky in closer. He licks into his mouth and chases his tongue with a moan. Bucky’s arms encircle his neck and trail up and down over the notches of his spine the crown his shoulders. He gets Steve’s shirt off first, letting his lip be pulled when Steve won’t let go, and presses his eyes closed with a grunt while his hands are struggling to keep his fingers on the hem.

The bites he leaves on the slope of Steve’s shoulders more than make up for the rawness of his lip. Steve paws at his hair, guiding him in and up to his neck to bruise marks into him with the force of his mouth.

Bucky’s shirt is off next. Steve shoves him back on the couch until he bounces against the arm rest. He looks at Steve, with wide blue eyes and parted lips so he can take in too little air to keep him from gasping. He’s pliant in his hands, and every limb falls to his command, moving to ease the process.

Steve gets him naked, and wastes time kissing up and down his chest, over his hips and in between his thighs. He spends close attention to his nipples, his navel, the backs of his knees where Bucky gives him a little shudder. Or he grips at his hair. Or he digs his nails into the material of the couch hard enough to tear.

“Steve,” he whispers – gasps, really. He’s already so hard for him, straining up against his stomach with the tip buried in the small thatch of dusty brown hair connecting his belly button to his cock.

Steve grins, he leans down, kisses him chastely on the underside of his cockhead and smiles. Bucky keens, arching his back with nothing short of a whimper and desperate fingers dragging Steve by the hair towards his dick.

“Goddammit. Steve,” he grits out. Steve just smiles wider. He slinks down on the couch cushions and lets his head get close to Bucky’s stomach. His kisses return there, until his mouth is enveloping Bucky’s hard cock.

“Shit…” he breathes, gasping again when Steve sucks him off with pop of his lips.

Fingernails dig harder and harder into his shoulders as he repeats the action. He holds him in place, sucks on him and bobs his head messy and sweet with spit and pre-come dribbling down his chin.

But Bucky is so goddamn pretty, he doesn’t think of what a mess he is. He just focuses on that face, and when that face goes out of view, he watches that jaw as it flexes and shifts around an opening and closing mouth. He feels Bucky's heart beating steady by pressing his thumb into the vein in his inner thigh, and listens to it quicken when his nose trails down over the seam of his balls.

He licks once at Bucky’s hole, just to see if Bucky will like it.

And he does. He _loves_ it. It sends him squirming off the couch and pressing his head over the back of the rest so far Steve has to grab his hips to keep him from falling over. They both laugh, and Steve keeps licking and kissing him right around the ring of muscle. He slicks him up enough to tease at him with a finger, all the while Bucky drags nails through his hair and over the back of his neck.

Panting out: “Steve” and “fuck” and “more” and “please”.

He pulls away after a moment and leans up to kiss him so he knows Bucky can have a taste of himself.

“I need lube. I need to fuck you right now, Buck.”

Bucky nods, licks into his mouth so thoroughly it’s clear he _wants_ that taste. It makes Steve groan, cage Bucky’s hips and grind up against his naked skin with those well-worn jeans.

“Need you, too, Steve. Fuck…so bad.”

He pulls him along to his bedroom and kisses him along the way. They get on the bed, and immediately Bucky falls to his hands and knees on the mattress. He’s presenting himself to Steve, shoving his ass up in the air like he’s begging for it.

All Steve has to shed are his jeans and underwear. He gets them off, gets his fingers slicked up and teasing at Bucky before he even has time to get impatient. They slide in easy, and he takes it slow. One finger at a time, scissoring and getting Bucky worked open for him until Bucky is face first in the sheets practically sobbing. He keeps hitting Bucky in that spot, sending little jolts through his body after he finds out just where it is. Bucky cries out, bites on his own wrist to muffle the sound. He shakes for Steve, loses whatever semblance of control he had left for him.

Bucky can’t even form a single word and Steve can’t hold off anymore. He gets out the condom, gets it on himself and gets his dick up against the cleft of Bucky’s ass.

He holds his chest up so his back is right up against Steve’s body. His cock slips into him so perfectly, fills him up and makes Steve groan because he’s still tensing up and gripping him as he pushes in.

“Buck,” he breathes against his ear. His mouth slides over his cheek until Bucky turns back far enough to kiss him.

He keeps that slow pace, makes Bucky cry out when he gets in deep. And Bucky grabs where he can; claws at Steve’s forearm, digs his nails in deep on the back of his thighs, tries his damnest to get to his ass to urge his hips to go faster.

“You fuckin’ tease. Dammit.”

Steve laughs, “Thought you liked how I was when we fucked?” He feels dirty as hell and he knows it’s all Bucky’s fault. It feels good. It feels better than good to be like this.

“ _Jesus Christ, Steve, please_ ,” he whines.

He’s back to kissing Bucky’s cheek when he tastes the salt. It startles him, and he rears back just enough to see Bucky’s face.

“Buck…are you ok? Are you crying?”

Bucky laughs, and his throat is raw enough his laugh doesn’t even sound like his own. “S’fuckin good, Steve. God…I’m trying not to come.”

Steve’s face feels so hot he could catch fire and not even notice. He nuzzles at Bucky’s temple, moves his hand from the center of his chest up to his cheek. “You wanna fuck me, Buck? Can you hold off long enough to get me ready?”

There’s no movement from either of them for a beat. Then Bucky nods, his breath shudders in his chest and Steve can feel it through his back.

He slips out of him and falls back onto his haunches. Bucky gives him the command “on your side” and he does as he’s told. One leg lifts just slightly, and Bucky curves his body around Steve’s so he’s fit right up against him.

A hand goes to holding Steve’s thigh, the other goes to tease at him. He’s tight, and admittedly it’d been awhile. Bucky had been the last one to fuck him – he couldn’t imagine it with anyone else he’d come across since it’d happened the first time between them, as stupid as that was.

It’s easy work, to get him open. Steve is boneless against Bucky’s chest. He turns his head up, lets Bucky dip down and kiss him open mouthed and wet. Their tongues press against each other’s lazily and Bucky licks up every sound Steve makes. Every little whimper or whine, moan or grunt, the half-formed sounds of Bucky’s name and the curses Steve forces himself to swallow down.

"I'm ready," he pants against his lips. "No more, I can't...I'll come..."

Bucky takes the time to put on his condom, while Steve’s thighs shake without Bucky there to hold them.

He holds up Steve’s leg higher this time, and shuffles his hips on the bed until Steve can feel Bucky’s cock pressing at him. It makes him gasp, makes his heart beat speed up so loud it drowns out every other sound in the room aside from the hard, sharp breathing in his ear coming from Bucky’s mouth.

He snaps his hips up and into Steve. He makes him cry out and claw at the sheets. His head lolls back into place, and he lets Bucky see his eyes while his cock moves relentlessly up into him.

“God, Steve,” he mumbles against his mouth. “It’s so good. So good. _Ah_ – fuck.”

“Yeah?”

He can hardly breathe and his voice comes out so tight it’s an octave higher, broken and shaking.

“Yeah. Gonna come soon, Steve. Gonna...I’m gonna come so good for you.”

Steve tenses, but he makes himself hold off. Every part of him is shaking down to his fingers. He can’t even manage to keep hold of the sheets anymore. His eyes are locked on Bucky’s and the sun comes in through the window to illuminate them bright blue. His forehead is shining with sweat, and his face is blushing red, but he’s so goddamn beautiful Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

"Want you to come, Buck. Wanna come for you, too."

He lets one hand come up to the back of Bucky’s hair to drag him into another kiss. The other goes to his own cock. It only takes a few strokes before he can’t close his mouth around the moans that shove out from his chest. He comes hard, and Bucky watches him, but Steve can’t even process that much of what's around him. Everything is dull and sharp all at once. Everything is lost in Bucky's blue eyes and his lips.

His breath pants out of him, and as he comes down he’s shocked back into reality with the force of Bucky’s hips rocking the mattress. The hand that hangs limp on the back of his head moves again, and it drags Bucky’s forehead to his just in time for him to finish.

Bucky’s moans are hot against Steve’s lips. He's loud and doesn't seem to care that everyone in Steve's building probably just heard him shouting Steve's name. Everything is happening below the surface, and Steve can only watch in awe. His eyes are closed, lashes against his cheeks, and his brow knits up until Steve leans up to kiss it on a whim.

He opens his eyes then, looks down at Steve as he pulls out of him.

For a second Steve thinks he’s going to run. He sits up and turns away from him, closing Steve out. It makes Steve’s heart pound and fear set in so quickly that it’s nauseating. Maybe he’d fucked this up again. Maybe sex should have waited to prove to Bucky that he was more than that to him.

“Hey,” Steve says. He tentatively reaches out, touches Bucky's back.

“What?” Bucky asks, turning around. He glances down at his own hand. “Where’s the trashcan? In the bathroom?”

Relief washes through him so fast that now it’s what nauseates him. He sits up, gets his own condom off.

“Yeah. C'mere."

They both take a second to clean off in total silence. Bucky keeps glancing at him, Steve keeps glancing back. Every time they catch eyes they share a little smile or Bucky rolls his eyes or Steve chuckles to himself.

They fall back in bed and immediately Bucky is on his chest. Steve holds him close, buries his nose in his hair and puts a hand on his wrist where it lies across his sternum. He thinks Bucky might have fallen asleep, with how evenly he breathes, until he speaks.

“Hey so…uh…that was free of charge. Just. FYI.” Bucky glances up at him. “So y’know. You don’t do something stupid like offer to pay me again.”

Steve looks off to the corner and groans, “Oh Jesus are you ever going to let that go?”

Bucky laughs.

“Not a chance.”

Steve looks back down eventually. Bucky is staring at Steve’s fingers as they trace back and forth over the bones in his wrist. He smiles a bit, and then sighs.

“We could start over,” Steve offers. “Do this right, y’know? Like a real date where I’m not _paying  you_.” He says that last part with very deliberate inflection.

“Dunno how we’re supposed to do that,” Bucky laughs slowly. “Since we’ve been consistently fucking for like over a month now.”

Steve shakes his head. “Didn’t say it’d be easy. This is still totally…” He sighs out another laugh. “Fucked up. I mean for…a very long list of reasons. You’re still really young. And I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to get over the fact that I’ve got the meanest jealous streak there is. I don’t want to share. Sounds selfish, but I think that’s pretty fair given the circumstances.”

Bucky nods on his chest. “It’s fair. And yeah. It’s gonna be hard.”

It goes it without saying, but Steve thinks, with a very large part of himself, that it might just be the most worthwhile thing he’s ever put effort into. Maybe that makes him stupid and impulsive. It definitely does. But like Bucky said, he always wore his heart on his sleeve.

“What’s your name then. It’s not really Bucky is it?”

Bucky turns his head up enough that Steve can look down at him.

“No.” He smiles. “My real name’s James. Bucky comes from my middle name. Buchanan. Like the president.”

Steve pulls a face, “ _Buck_.” He pointedly uses the name to say, in not so many words, that there was no way in hell he was calling him _James_. “I have to ask you something.”

Bucky narrows his eyes slightly, expecting a serious question. “What is it?”

Steve just smiles. The likelihood of this working out is a million to one. Steve's never been a gambler, and the odds are so slim that luck is far from being on their side. So, yeah it probably won't work. Probably. But there's a sliver of hope there and Steve grabs onto it.

“Will you go out with me sometime? Dinner or something. No drinks. Obviously.” _Since you’re only eighteen and I’m the stupidest man on the planet earth for falling for you like this._ He smirks a little, to give wind to the joke.

A joke, of course, that earns him a steely glare. A glare that melts into a soft smile, a kiss on the lips, and Bucky hovering over him with hands on either side of his head.

He kisses him again. And again. And again.

Steve takes it to mean “yes”.


End file.
